


Unsolicited

by caprigender



Series: Gogonzola the Defiant, courier and raider grandma supreme [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7132499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprigender/pseuds/caprigender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zola has a difficult time with intimacy, but she doesn't have any problem making sure anti-ghoul bigots know where they can shove their unwanted opinions</p>
<p>written for the kinkmeme a while ago but I forgot about it before posting here so it's a little bit late haha</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsolicited

“Well hey there, little lady, nice to see you again all in one piece.”

Zola bristled. “Nash, you call me ‘little lady’ one more time and I swear to god I will blow up this entire fucking town. I’ve got the dynamite for it and I don’t make empty threats.”

“Easy there, sweetheart, I didn’t mean for you to take offense or anything,” the Primm merchant held up his hands in a placating gesture that only worked on the old courier because the man had caps and ammo to spare. Zola grunted in response and swung her duffel bag onto the nearest table, pulling out armfuls of scrap and salvage. It was all just junk to her, but she knew in the right hands this garbage could be used to rebuild and that meant those ‘right hands’ were willing to pay for it. She was more than happy to take their money no matter what dumbass comments they fired at her.

The trade was done mostly in silence. The two of them knew the value of their wares. They also knew what the other was willing to pay and how that influenced their bartering. They’d done this exact dance many times before and conversation wasn’t necessary. Not necessary, but in some cases…

“So what’s the story between you and that ghoul you’re always in here with?” Nash asked while picking through the pile of chipped coffee mugs and pre-war paperweights. “Don’t recall you having him with you the first time you rolled through Primm.” Zola huffed and didn’t respond, sliding a few canisters of turpentine across the table and picking out a few clips of 9mm rounds. John Nash chuckled, “You’re not a woman of many words, six. Look, I know it’s none of my business, but I really gotta ask. There’s been rumors floating on through that you and the ghoul are… well, a little bit more than just friendly. And I’m not the kind of man who’ll believe what he hears coming through the grapevine, but I figured you should know. That kind of character assassination can be hard to come back from.”

Zola looked up from her mental calculations and eyed Nash with a cold stare. Her face wrinkled up in a sneer. “You’re right, Nash. It’s none of your damn business.” She scooped her purchases off the table into her duffel bag, tossing her caps down so they rattled on the hard surface.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Nash called after her.

Zola ignored him, swinging the strap of her bag up over her shoulder and fastening it into place. “Jackass,” she muttered under her breath.

She stormed over to where Raul stood examining the Vicky and Vance getaway car. He was relaxed and leaning back against the railing smiling at the bullet-riddled metal. If she could even really call that expression a smile. She’d learned early on in their adventures that Raul didn’t smile, he smirked. Even in life threatening situations that snarky bastard couldn’t bring himself to be more serious than sarcastic. It made her want to slap that stupid grin off his face. 

No, no, that was years of violent posturing talking. Soft, sweet, and tender young girls didn’t survive in raider gangs so Zola had never learned to be any of those things. Loud, vicious, and tough? She could be that and she showed her love that way whenever she could. When “I love you” meant shooting an attacker in the head or blowing up a casino safe or staying up by the door all night with a shotgun in hand and an eye towards the horizon then she could love as easily as breathing. When “I love you” meant holding hands or soft kisses on the cheek or kind words she choked up. She was trying, good lord was she trying so damn hard, but it wasn’t easy for her. It had never been easy for her.

Still, she wasn’t named Gorgonzola the Defiant for nothing. As long as there were people telling her what was best for her she would go out and make sure to show them exactly which parts of her ass they could kiss.

“What’s the matter, boss?” Raul teased, “You’re storming around like 4 foot 10 inches of pure fury. If you were a normal sized person I’d have run for the hills by now. You get the raw end of a deal or something?”

Zola snorted, as close to a laugh as he usually got with her on an average day and looked up at him. She felt her heart flutter with… something, she wasn’t quite sure she knew what she wanted to call it yet. Whatever it was, it was nice. 

Social mores and intimacy issues be damned, she deserved to feel nice. She reached up and grabbed him by the collar of his jumpsuit, pulling him down to her level so she could kiss him. His laugh vibrated against her lips and she felt her face heating up. She pulled back and smiled at him. “Ready to hit the road.”

He threw an arm around her shoulder. “Sure thing, boss. I love following crazy chicks into life threatening situations.”

She leaned against him and slipped a hand into his back pocket. Still affectionate touching, but much easier for her than kissing. “You say it sarcastically but you keep sticking around. What’s the truth, cowboy?”

Raul laughed, “The truth?” His arm squeezed around her shoulder, “The truth is we’re getting a lot of dirty stares thanks to that stunt you just pulled. I’m thinking we should probably head out sooner instead of later.”

Zola nodded as the two made their way towards the casino door. She was sure past lovers would have been tickled pink to see her like this. Trust Zola to work through a distaste for romance and public displays of affection in order to send a big “fuck you” message. She’d always been more of a fighter than a lover, but loving Raul was a fight in its own way. And she already knew the battle was worth it.


End file.
